We can be Heroes Just for one day
by Grantaire-and-his-Bottle
Summary: Marius Pontmercy invite Les Amis to spend the weekend in his Grandfather's country house. Sweet and silly AU story.
1. We can be heroes, just for one day

**Note: For you, my sweetheart.**

Marius enters the café Musain with an excellent mood. But as he closes the door and turns his head, taking off his sun glasses he nearly receives a heart attack because of Gavroche. The teen appears from nowhere with a gun in his hand and a serious face.

"Wha-where did you get that?" Marius's face is pale, even his freckles become paler than usual.

Gavroche watches him for some long moments and then bursts in giggles. "Jesus, Marius, your face is priceless!"

The Law student rolls his eyes and together with the blond walks to the table. "Anyway, what is that?"

Gavroche collapses on the chair and put a gun on a café's table. "It's uncharged, don't worry." As his answer doesn't satisfy Marius he adds. "I took it from my Dad. God knows what that bloody man can do."

The last sentence sounds so bitter and it is strange to hear such words from a rather young person. But a moment later Gavroche grins again and pats Marius. "Relax, mate. By the way, why have you arranged the meeting? Something's happened? Cosette has become even more wonderful? Or Enjolras is drunk? Or is it about Joly? He ate something without washing it?"

"Haha, you're the top of the class." Marius sighs as Gavroche proudly bows. "I am going to invite all of you to my country house for this weekend."

The teenager, who has been in a process of poking his finger into Marius's cheek freezes. "Oooh." The devilish smile appears on his lips. "That, my friend, is an amazing idea!"

"What idea?" they hear the voice of Courfeyrac and Jehan, who have just entered the café. "Hello, everyone."

Jehan's hair is tied into an elegant ponytail; a wide white t-shirt with "We are young" written on it and tight dark blue jeans looks lovely on the Poet's slim figure. Courfeyrac hugs him and puts his head on Jehan's shoulder. "So? Tell us."

"I've been saying that_"

The door opens again and Gavroche, Marius, Courfeyrac and Jehan watch the dark-haired young man, who on a speed of light runs inside with yells "Hide me!" and jumps under the table, where Marius and Gavroche are sitting. Second later another man runs inside, breathing heavily. His usually golden curls now are painted in green.

Enjolras's eyes sparkle dangerously. "Grantaire." He says calmly, but his voice makes everybody shiver. "Say goodbye to your friends."

Black, curly bush of hair slowly appears between Marius and Gavroche. Then two blue eyes carefully look at Enjolras. "Mercy?"

"What did you say?"

"Mercy?"

Four other people turn their heads to Enjolras as he speaks and then back to Grantaire as he answers.

"One more time."

"Mercy on my soul or rather on my ass, which will regret after your negotiation between my brushes and paints and palettes and my_. Please, Enjolras, you are a good person, with a big, loving heart_." Grantaire, Gavroche and Marius duck down as the leader through his bag in Grantaire's head.

Courfeyrac really tries not to laugh that vividly and remain serious, but he gives up.

"May I speak?" Jehan asks, hiding the laughing face of his friend in his shoulder. Enjolras's gaze slowly travels to him. "With all respect, the green color actually matches you…"

"I'll stir up Joly against you, telling him that you have smallpox and parturient infection at the same time, Jehan."

"Who has parturient infection?" the enthusiastic voice of the Medical student reaches their ears.

Enjolras silently points on Jehan, still looking at the place, where Grantaire is hiding, burning him with his eyes. Joly stares at Jehan then at Courfeyrac. "Hey, it's not my fault!" protests Courfeyrac as Joly shakes his head thoughtfully.

"That paint can be easily removed by washing your hair, so don't worry." Grantaire's attempt to justify himself fails.

"I will remove you right now."

Marius sighs, pressing his index finger and thumb to the bridge nose. "You know, I'd ask you two, what the hell has happened, but I've decided that I don't want to know. Can you all calm down and listen to me for a second?"

Enjolras sits on the nearest chair, looking like a Gorgon; Joly, still watching Courfeyrac suspiciously sits near the leader, but then carefully shift the chair away from him. Gavroche puts his legs on the chair next to him and rest his head on Marius's laps, winking at Grantaire, who's been sitting on the floor between them. R silently plays his own execution, by hanging.

"So I want to tell that you all are invited to spend this weekend in my grandfather's country house. I-if you want, of course." His cheeks suddenly become pink.

"Oh, no. There, on the open-air, in a dark forest, Enjolras will definitely kill me…" sighs Grantaire as Enjolras narrows his eyes.

Courfeyrac's eyes open widely. "With barbecue and cola?"

"And dancing in the moonlight!" Jehan adds, smiling dreamily, caressing Courfeyrac's neck.

Marius nods. "Of course. The weather is good and my Grandfather won't be there, so we have plenty of free space."

"Woohoo!" Gavroche waves his hand as he takes a sitting position again. "Enjolras, promise me not to kill Grantaire." The leader raises his brow. "You see, he has borrowed money, so he must pay me. If you kill him, you will pay. Deal?" he seriously crosses hands on his chest. "Besides I have a gun. Just to let you know."

Everyone sighs and chuckles. "Deal." Enjolras eventually answers.

Grantaire happily stands up and kisses Gavroche's temple. "Remind me, Gavroche, when did I borrow money from you?"

The teen looks up. "For saving your life." He nods on Enjolras. "Everything has its own price, mon ami."

"Little bastard." Grantaire laughs, tickling him.

"So tomorrow at 7 a.m. I will meet all of you on the railway station, okay?" Marius says, typing something down in his phone.

"How about food?" Enjolras asks.

"Nono, you are my guests, so don't worry about that." Marius replies quickly.

"Oh my, imagine monsieur Marius cooking for us and serving us drinks!" Courfeyrac giggles, playing with Jehan's hair.

"And what about Combeferre and Feully? Cosette and others? Will they come?" Joly asks, cheeking his pulse on his neck.

"Joly, of course Cosette will come. He asked her first." Grantaire carefully walks to Enjolras. The second one watches him without blinking. "Marius will ask her to marry him, believe me." He grins, turning to Marius. "Am I right?"

Les Amis smiles and laughs as they watch Marius's blushing face. "No, not yet, I_don't want to rush the events."

Jehan sighs, still hugging Courfeyrac. "Okay, then tomorrow at 7." Everyone nods and starts walking out, chatting with each other, Gavroche singing something cheerful.

"Enjolras, I am sorry, that was a joke." Grantaire with a troubled face walks near his friend.

"You said you want to make a portrait, I trusted you." Enjolras answers coldly, approaching the front door.

The cynic grabs his hand and tugs him closer. "Please, don't look at me like that. Your eyes are broking my heart."

Enjolras deliberately glances at him so nonchalant, that R feels his heart falling down. But then, using Grantaire's confusion, he leans and kisses the Artist so passionately, that Grantaire hasn't realized what has happened at first. Then with happy noises he answers the kiss, hugging Enjolras tightly. The young leader smiles, letting Grantaire to taste that smile. The thin fingers of R run up and down Enjolras neck as he slightly bites his lower lip.

"Am I forgiven?" he whispers, millimeters away from the other lips.

"Nope."


	2. You are sad when you think I can't see

**Note:Yes, the name of the chapter is a quote from Sherlock BBC.**

Enjolras briskly enters the living-room, where the Art student is sleeping, curled on the sofa. He is lying on his belly, hugging a big pillow, the blanket falls on the floor near a big scratch-book and three pencils. On the open page there is a picture of Grantaire, standing near Enjolras. He didn't make his own figure very detailed, but Enjolras's was neatly done.

He sighs as notices the green color of his hair, then his eyes glance at the cynic's face. Enjolras sits on the edge of the sofa. "Wake up, sleeping beauty." He shakes R's shoulder.

Grantaire only mumbles something and hides his head in the pillow. "Come on, we are going to be late." Enjolras (with his clean golden curls) shakes the sleeping man's forearm again; then leans forward, close to R's ear. "TO THE BARICADES!"

The Artist silently grabs his pillow and puts on his head. Enjolras rolls his eyes. His fingertips touches Grantaire's bare skin on his wrist. Then ember eyes smiles as they catch the reaction of the student: muscles on his hand tensed. Fingertips, almost not touching, very slightly caressing the skin, travel up, leaving goosebumps. Patiently Enjolras continues his actions, knowing that R won't resist at the end.

His hand reaches a blue sleeve of the t-shirt when_ "Aaah, you are a perfidious seducer!" Grantaire jerks up suddenly and his pillow collides with Enjolras's smiling face. "I want to sleep, for pity's sake. It's 6 a.m." he falls on the sofa again, scratching his left arm.

The leader of Les Amis frowns, placing the poor pillow on his laps. "We have train at 7.25 a.m."

Grantaire, rubbing his eyes hems. "Plenty of time."

Enjolras nods sarcastically and stands up, but his right palm has been caught by R's. "Can I sleep with you this night?" he uncertainly watches his friend. "I won't joke with you never again. I promise." Grantaire sounds really desperate, with his sleepy face and tangled curls. "I had bad dreams without you and I had to hug pillow, thinking that that was you."

The leader sighs, knowing that Grantaire is just pretending and playing, but he acts very realistic. "Maybe."

The grin appears on the face of the cynic. "I knew you love me!"

Enjolras turns, hiding his smile and walks to the kitchen. "I can change my mind easily, Grantaire."

The student grimaces and finally stands up from the sofa with a rather heavy head, because of the lack of sleep. He drags himself to the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder to see what Enjolras is doing in the kitchen and why that something smells so good. His bare feet feel the cool smooth surface of the glazed tile.

Grantaire stops in front of the mirror; his deep, dark blue eyes look at him from the mirror. The face with hollow cheeks and dark skin under those eyes. R closes them, having no strength to watch his own reflection. It reminds him times, when not only alcohol was his best friend. On his pale skin of the right arm, scars are still visible. The cynic sits on the edge of the bath and takes a deep breath.

_Enjolras deserves much better than me. _

He is what he was before. The poison of his own bitter thought is still making him sick. Enjolras is helping. More then anyone and anything in this world. _But very often_, Grantaire desperately bites his upper lip, swallowing heavily, trying to calm himself down, _I think that Enjolras is with me just because of pity_. He gasps, suddenly realizing how cold the bath, on which he is sitting, is.

"Tea or coffee?" the sound of Enjolras's voice reaches Grantaire's ears. He smiles sadly, realizing that without Ehis Apollo, he still would not survive. "Coffee, sweetheart." He wants to believe; but he is so afraid of believing that Enjolras is with him just because he loves Grantaire. It's because he never believes in miracles. That's why he acts so silly sometimes. To hide his pure disgust to himself, And his deepest fear.

The Phantom of the Opera loudly rings in Enjolras's jeans pocket as he is slicing the cheese for their sandwiches.

"_And do I dream again? For now I find Phantom of the opera is there inside my min__d"_

"Wait a second, I am coming." He mutters in a hurry, reaching for the towel.

"_Sing once again with me, our strange duet My power over you grows stronger yet__"_

At last, when his hands are dry and clean he reaches for the phone and picks up the call from Combeferre. "Yes?"

"Good morning. I am just calling you, to cheek that you've woken up." Enjolras rolls his eyes, pressing his phone with his shoulder, while making the second sandwich.

"Of course I've woken up, I have to look after Grantaire." He reaches for mayonnaise.

On the other side Ferry laughs gently."Don't pretend that you don't like that."

Enjolras chuckles, licking his fingers.

"_But Mama I am in love with a criminal_…"

Combeferre sighs. "Could it be that Grantaire is singing Britney Spears?"

The leader or Apollo to his cynical best friend and lover walks to the fridge, searching for tomatoes. "Yes. He has a very extensive knowledge in music. Yesterday, for example, he was singing the Ride of the Valkyries."

"It's a melody, how was he singing it?"

"No ideas. What a second, please." Enjolras takes away the phone from his ear and calls loudly. "Britney, hurry up, we are late!"

The singing stops so suddenly that Enjolras (and Combeferre more likely too) frowns. Suspiciously Enjolras pops his head from the kitchen's doorway.

"_We'll stay__, f__orever this way__, y__ou are safe in my heart__, a__nd my heart will go on and __o__n!__"__  
_

A whistle. "Admit that his voice sounds great, when he actually sings instead of making parodies."

Enjolras is smiling. He likes to realize that Grantaire is slowly changing. Of course his sarcasm and pessimism never leaves him completely, but he can see the difference. Between that angry, annoyed, tired, lost, cold, deep, blue eyes and more warm and smiling gaze that Grantaire has now. He smokes, but does a little less than before. He drinks, but not that much.

"Stop thinking of how amazing you Granta_" the sudden noises, which sound very like kisses make Combeferre stops talking. He clears his throat. "Guys?" no response and more sounds. "Ehm, okay. Well, you still are in a hurry, remember. A train? No? I_. Okay, see you at the railway station. Bye."

Courfeyrac smiles gently as he watches Jehan making photos of people on the railway station. The Poet's green eyes shine with strange, but very warm shine as he catches someone's face expression. Young girl, laughing as her older brother sneezes loudly. Old man slowly reads a newspaper sighing from time to time as he turns the pages. A young man is searching for someone, but his face lights up as he notices Jehan's making a picture of him. A woman wipes a single tear, while talking on her phone. Her eye look unnaturally stoned. Like if she has forgotten how to love.

Courfeyrac steps closer and takes away hair from Jehan's determined face. The second man closes his eyes, enjoying Courf's fingers on his cheek. "You look lovely." His nose touches Jehan's cheek.

Jehan opens his eyes. This time he wears ochre trousers, blue t-shirt under his checked shirt. Rather big sunglasses looks good on his nose. Courfeyrac watches his strange, charming Dreamer.

"Do you know with what speed falls the flower of a cherry tree?' he asks that so seriously, like if he is giving a lecture about an antimatter in Harvard University. The most amazing peculiarity of Jehan's character is that he cares about clouds, flowers, poetry and starry sky as much as he cares about political situation in France or helping Enjolras in his protests. But he doesn't sound very sappy or sentimental. His eyes are clever. And kind. Very often he reminds Courfeyrac an Elf. Not those little Santa helpers, but majestic creatures from Tolkien's mythology. They were wise, but sung happily like kids, knew everything since the beginning of the World, but that knowledge didn't make them look old, only eyes shone with secret light. So do Jehan's.

"I love you." When Courfeyrac says that, everytime Jehan feels that they are infinitive.

Suddenly, both of them hear someone's annoyed or rather angry snort. "Faggots." The man near them says. He looks like a successful businessman, with a tie and iPad in his hands.

"Nice to meet you." Courfeyrac replies, his hand is resting on Jehan's waist.

"Such scum like you, should not visit the same places as normal people." His grey eyes narrow. "You are the worst illness of the modern society."

"Of course we are. What is terrorism, the infringement of Human rights and Freedom, famine and wars are in a compare with my sexuality." The Poet's voice sounds so calm as he speaks. The words of the stranger didn't make any effect on him.

The businessman stares as a blond teen runs to the couple happily, a huge backpack on his back. "Hey, guys!" the kid stops near them, but then his smile fades a bit. "You are okay?"

Courfeyrac smiles. "Sure, we have been chatting with this lovely man.' He nods to the stranger. "He says lots of interesting facts about homosexuality, you know."

Gavroche turns and his big, blue eyes scan the man. As he finishes, he silently shows a middle finger of his right hand.

The black-haired man stands up, the devise in his hands. He looks up and down and then at last glances at Gavroche's face. The despise in that gaze is colossal. He walks away, like if he has witness a dissection of a corpse of the paedophile.

Gavroche jumps on Courfeyrac's bag, which is staying near the coffee automat and makes himself comfortable.

"There are chocolates in that bag. Were, by now." Jehan says, placing his sunglasses on his crown.

The teen glances on the bag. "Ooops." He reaches for the chewing gum. "Where is everyone else?"

"I've called Ferry and he said Enjolras and Grantaire would be probably late and_" Gavroche interrupts him, by pointing forward.

"No, they won't."

Enjolras walks in a grey jeans and red t-shirt. It is almost an obsession with red color as for Gavroche, but it doesn't bother anyone. He is caring Grantaire's backpack and a guitar in the cover. There is a light, summer scarf, neatly hanging around his neck. Jehan smiles as he remembers that particular brown scarf is, in fact, Grantaire's.

The cynic is walking near, tugging a big luggage. "You know, Enjolras, it would be very kind of you if you haven't packed your entire wardrobe… It's only two days." he breathes heavily as they reach Courfeyrac, Gavroche and Jehan. The last one's lips curls in a small mischief smile as he notices red mark on Grantaire's pale skin of is neck. R opens his mouth to ask, but realizes the reason and laughs.

Enjolras carefully places the guitar, leaning on the automat and cheeks the time. "Well done, Grantaire, we are not even late. Surprisingly." The Art student proudly stands near Courfeyrac, still breathing heavily. "And in the bag, there are not only mine clothes, but yours as well, our laptops and your scratch books."

"Well done us. Jesus, I want coffee." He searches for some coins.

"You've just had one. Stop it or you become a coffee addict." Enjolras warns.

R shrugs only in reply and pushes a button "Latte".

"Since when you drinking that milky, sweety latte?" Gavroche asks, playing with Courfeyrac's hand: there is a battle of fingers, to be more correct.

"I don't." he replies. Then carefully takes a plastic cup and turns to the leader. "Enjolras does. And he didn't have time for drinking it at home."

Jehan's eyes slip to Grantaire's mark on the neck again, but he just smiles.

Suddenly they all hear Joly's sad "hello" as he approaches them. He looks so pitiful that even Gavroche stops playing and stares at him.

"You are okay?" Enjolras asks, licking his lips after he has made a sip. (Grantaire saw that and felt butterflies in his stomach.)

"Combeferre doesn't talk to me anymore." He looks like he is going to cry right now. "We even had different busses to reach the station."

Courfeyrac rolls his eyes. "Let me guess. You were about to take the whole chemist shop with you and he was against." Joly nods, sighing sadly.

"I was only caring about him."

Grantaire makes two steps and pats the medical student's shoulder, his eyes shine softly.

"We'll think of something, don't worry."

Combeferre appears ten minutes later together with Cosette and Marius, who have been caring so many bags and packages, that R glances at Enjolras with a _don't-you-dare-to-say-I-have-to-many-luggage_ look.

"Sorry everybody, we've been in an enormous jam." Cosette takes a deep breath. Marius puts on the floor all the stuff he's been carrying and looks at the railway's clock.

"Jesus, only ten minutes and we'd be late…"

Ferry glances at Joly through his glasses. The second one looks so miserable that eventually it melts the heart of Combeferre. He smiles at Joly and everyone else laughs when Joly's face enlightens brightly.

After all with a great number of bags, backpacks, the guitar and food Les Amis have managed to sit on the right train(the first one which they entered because of Gavroche, who sworn it was their train, was actually heading to Berlin) and they tiredly collapse on their seats, closing the door to the compartment.

"Marius. Why 7 a.m? Are there no trains later?" Grantaire asks, searching for the bottle of cola in his backpack.

The Law students frown. "If we wait for the later ones it will be very hot outside and that will be worse."

Most of them roll their eyes, with "whatever" faces expression.

Half an hour later Marius is sitting near the window, reading the article in his phone, holding Cosette's hand. Cosette is listening the music with her gaze far away. Jehan is writing something in his notebook, smiling from time to time. Courfeyrac tries to read it, but the Poet glances at him with a serious face. "I haven't finished it!"

Enjolras has fallen asleep, leaning against the window. Grantaire notices that, puts his scratch book away and carefully shifts Enjolras. He puts the leader's head on his shoulder. Then goes back to his drawings.

Combeferre watches the cynic. He looks sad, when he thinks Enjolras can't see him. Ferry tries to understand why, but fails constantly. They look so happy together. But still Grantaire's eyes are sad so often.


	3. Once on a yellow piece of paper

**Note: the poem which Jehan is writing is from the book "Perks of being a wallflower"**

The train runs away from Paris, leaving behind all the responsibilities they have and things, which are needed to be done, runs away from the prejudices, away from dust of the streets and troubles of the university. To meet the peaceful company of the Nature. To see beautiful sunset, to hug each other's in the gentle light of the Sun's Brother – Moon. To kiss lovers' lips, drunk because of the smell of flowers, clouds, hearts, dreams.

Outside the window the landscape is changing so quickly that it forms one, big, colorful line of paints, just like on Grantaire's palette, when he has a good mood.

Courfeyrac blinks several times, the sleep slips away from his eyes and head. He looks to his right to watch Jehan, who has been writing his poem. Courfeyrac silently reads a few lines, a flood of mixed feelings erupts in his chest.

"_Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines_

_he wrote a poem  
And he called it "Autumn"  
because that was the name of the season  
And that's what it was all about  
And his teacher gave him an A  
and asked him to write more clearl__y"_

"Jehan." He whispers.

The ginger haired student turns his head slightly, eyes never leaving his notebook. He is a left-handed as well as Grantaire. "Why is your new masterpiece so bitter?" he asks, watching beautiful emerald eyes from upside down.

Jehan looks at the window. "It is not bitter. It's about life and it can't be always sweet and good. It's like jazz music. One second you are ready to dance, your head full of pictures, lips can fill the aftertaste of the kisses under the rain, but then the inconstant medley changes and in your heart echoes the dull pain of memories, because those kisses are gone, the warmth of hands is forgotten." His thoughtful gaze travels back to Courfeyrac's face.

The second one takes Jehan's hand in his own, their fingers tangled. They sit silently, sharing light touches of their fingertips. Everyone else in the compartment has fallen asleep. "He is cute, isn't he?" Whispers the Poet. "But fights with so many demons on his own."

Courfeyrac trails his lover's gaze and looks at sleeping Grantaire. He is holding a pencil in his left hand, a picture of Gavroche is half-drawn: a spark in the teen's eyes looks very realistic. R's head is resting on Enjolras's, which in his term is lying on the cynic's shoulder.

"The habit of dealing with problems alone is still strong. The heat of Enjolras's body can't melt it. Yet." He says gently.

As he speaks Courfeyrac squeezes Jehan's palm a bit tighter. "Do you feel my warmth? Can I make you feel more comfortable?"

Green, like leaves through which the Sun shines, eyes of Jehan peer into Courfeyrac's. "Yes." He breathes in reply. "My soul was wondering far away, lost in the heights of the stars. You've brought me back to Earth." His fingers touch Courfeyrac's palm, drawing the endless ornament on it by his touch. "You remind me that stars are cold, but down here is warm. Right here." Jehan touches Courfeyrac's chest, where his heart is.

Courfeyrac gasps, because of such speeches, when Jehan's mind works together with his heart. They don't seem strange to him; they are breathtaking. When his life is a dream and dream is his life. He leans just a little bit and carefully touches Courfeyrac's lips with his own, they are trembling.

"Jeh_"

"I am fine." He replies so quietly, that moment later Courfeyrac doubts that he really said something.

Those lips are trembling; they are warm; they are whispering, but he can't understand the words. That doesn't matter. The tongue touches the lower lip, making both shiver. Hearts are beating so loudly, yet rhythmic, hearing each other through the layers of cloth, through the cage of the ribs.

When Joly wakes up as the train stops on the small station. He yawns and rubs his eyes. Then carefully stands up and makes several steps, avoiding tangled legs of Jehan and Courfeyrac as well as Cosette's bag, which lies on the floor near her. When he reaches the door and opens it he notices Grantaire. The spring wind plays with the dark curls of the cynic, who has opened the window. He is smoking, inhaling the smoke slowly. In his eyes there is stiffness and lifelessness. Maybe from wine or coffee, or from the lack of sleep. Joly can't guess.

"Grantaire?" he comes to the skinny figure.

R turns and smiles. "Morning, Joly. How do you feel yourself? As for me it is better not to sleep at all rather than resting two or less hours. In result your head is so heavy as you wake up."

The medical student nods. "But resting is also important." He glances at Grantaire's face. "I am sorry, but you look like…" he pauses, thinking how to end the sentence.

"Like shit." Grantaire simply replies as he takes the last drag of his cigarette before throwing it away in the open window. "I know."

"You don't look always that bad." Joly leans near the window, his gaze catches the features of the Art student. "Actually, it seems like there are two versions of you."

Grantaire smirks. "I am just tired. Nothing special. Stop worrying about everything. It looks like paranoia." That sounds more like he is convincing himself rather than Joly. As the silence falls between them Grantaire continues. "We are almost there. Only thirty five minutes left. Let's go and wake everyone up."

Joly, following R back to the compartment, thinks that maybe, after all Grantaire is really just tired. But the small part of himself doubts. People can't change that fast. There are some scars, which always hurt.

Nine people are standing near the small building of the railway station, looking around. Marius's eyes catch the sign of two cars on the parking. "That is it. I've hired cars for us, come on."

Cars look old-fashioned, like the whole atmosphere of the town and Cosette's dress strangely fits it together with her hat, red shoes and glasses. One car is light blue, the other one is green. Marius doubtfully looks at two little Renualts and then back at their luggage. Combeferre has been thinking the same, but they just shrug and open boots.

At first they put backpacks of Courfeyrac and Gavroche, then Cosette's and Marius's suitcases, after that Grantaire's guitar, while he's been complaining loudly ("Careful, for Christ's sake, it's Yamaha!"). As Ferry closes the boot Enjolras suddenly notices that they haven't placed Grantaire's and his own suitcase, because R has distracted him with his guitar. Combeferre rolls his eyes, unlocking the boot once again. Together with Grantaire Enjolras manages to find a place for it.

"Okay, so it is only half an hour_" Gavroche loudly sighs as he hears the news. "And we will be there, I promise."

So in green car Gavroche, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Enjolras and Grantaire are riding(Enjolras is driving, because Jehan looks at the sky, caring about everything else so little and Courfeyrac is laughing hard together with Grantaire, watching a video on Gavroche's phone). In the second car Marius is driving, while Combeferre is sitting near Cosette, listening to Joly, who is telling them about the strange guy in the hospital where he is having the internship. Cosette laughs as Joly continues talking with a very serious face and Ferry just sits, watching the student with a small smile on his lips.

When at last after hour and a half, because they have turned wrong way several time; after the endless amount questions of Gavroche("Have we come? And now? We are there, right? No? What the hell!? Enjolras you are lagging like a schoolboy who has taken his Dad's car for the first time!") they have reached Marius's Grandfather's house.

It is a villa more likely. A big, ancient, wooden mansion with a large garden, which looks rather neglected, but it works for it. It gives a strange feeling of a mystery.

Les Amis walk inside, looking around curiously. "Wait a second." Grantaire stops suddenly, making Enjolras stumbling over their bag. "Is that a muscadine grapes plantation?" he points at the field behind the house.

"Well, yes, actually, my Grandfather likes wine very much. This is his hobby." Marius explains as a man comes to them.

"Good morning, messieurs, mademoiselle." He nods them. "Sir Marius, your rooms are ready, do you want to have a breakfast?"

Everyone, including Marius feels themselves embarrassed as the servant in a costume speaks. "Nono, thank you. You know, August, you have a day off today, please."

The servant bows. "Thank you, sir." And quickly walks away.

Combeferre looks at Marius's blushing cheeks. "I_I never like the fact that my grandfather is rich. It embarrasses me a lot."

Grantaire chuckles, still looking at the plantation. "At least he has a never ending supply of wine."

They grab all the packages and bags and enter the house. For everyone there are rooms with big windows from which the garden can be seen. As Enjolras and R walks to their, the Artist says. "I'd never live in such a place." Enjolras smiles, he thinks about that too. "It is too big and empty. So many rooms almost all of them are useless. Just like some people without souls." He reaches for the door handle and pushes it.

The room is also big with one bed. Grantaire enters it and collapses on that bed while Enjolras walks to the windows and draws apart the heavy curtains. The view outside is stunning. "Come here, R."

"Mhh?" Grantaire jumps from the bed and comes to him. "Oh."

Just under their window, hidden by the old trees, is a small pergola with two chairs, warm blankets are lying on them. Grantaire thinks of Enjolras sitting there, moonlight on his face, the reflection of the night in his beautiful eyes. He glances at Enjolras, who's been watching the place with shining face. The Artist smiles, putting his arms around the leader's waist, breathing in his neck. Enjolras closes eyes, enjoying a moment.

"Hey folks here's the story 'bout Minnie the Moocher  
She was a red-hot hoocie coocher  
She was the roughest toughest rail  
But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale"

The sound of Gavroche, singing downstairs reaches their ears, making both students smile. "Come on, people, I am hungry!" he cries out.

Grantaire just stands there, in the big room, with dark red curtains, hugging Enjolras.

"Grantaire?"

"Mh Uhh?"

"I love you."

The cynic's heart clenches. "Why did you say that?"

Enjolras shrugs, leaning against R's body. "Because I do love you. And I can't understand why you are always so stunned when I say that." He looks up at the bottomless eyes. "Sometimes I think you don't believe me."

Grantaire kisses his cheek. "I am stunned, because you are Enjolras. The believer. And I am Grantaire." His voice sounds bitter. "A drunkard. A cynic."

Enjolras remains silent, thinking of the fact that R used "the" when he spoke about him and "a" when about himself. "I thought I was helping you. But now I see that you have been only playing. You are still very unhappy."

The dark hair on the cynic's face hides his eyes as he replies. "Sometimes happiness it isn't a huge grin or constant good mood. It is a realization that you are needed." He hugs Enjolras tighter. "I am happy. The happiest person in the entire Universe."

The door opens and Gavroche appears in the doorway. "People, come'n, why all of you are kissing, hugging and other disgusting stuff doing! Let's have some barbecue; it's not even evening!" he looks at the couple of people near the window. "I am seriously afraid of the darkness and _what_ I am going to hear from all the rooms…" he sighs. "Please, I am hungry."

Grantaire chuckles. "You can join us if you want." The teen's gaze could literally burn a hole on R's face. Enjolras, laughing gently, tagging Grantaire to the corridor, his other arm around Gavroche's shoulder.

"Hey, lovebirds! It's barbecue time! Come on everybody!" Gavroche and Grantaire cries loudly as the walk downstairs.

The Artist feels that his heart isn't heavy like it was before. They will be fine. After all they are Enjolras and Grantaire.


	4. Nothing else matters

**Note: this is the last chapter of this story. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you all forgive my mistakes. Have a nice day)) **

**The song Grantaire sings is The Beatle's "All my Loving".**

**To you, sweetheart Jehan.**

Gavroche, Enjolras and Grantaire walk downstairs, cross a long corridor and enter a place, which could be a kitchen. Grantaire sighs as he watches the place. It reminds him of a royal dining room.

Marius's figure appears in a door way and says quickly. "Come on out of here. To be honest this part of the building hasn't been used very often." They walk outside and the Sun tickles their noses and cheeks. "It is the left ell which is normal and can be used."

Gavroche chuckles. "You mean not that pompous and classy? Could it be a place very servants live?" Marius sighs and nods, making other men smile. "That sounds better."

"Agree, I won't be afraid that I will accidently spill my coffee on Mona Lisa which is hanging in the corridor or wipe my feet_"

"I get it, Grantaire, thanks." Marius with pink cheeks opens another big door, letting his friends to came in.

Enjolras glances and decides that this part of the mansion is ways better. Many books on the bookshelves, pastel shades all around the place, paintings on the walls and bottles of wine, standing all together, complementing the atmosphere of the rooms. His gaze slips to Grantaire's face. His eyes are warm, reflection the spirit of the place.

"Well, Marius. We can use these bottles, can't we?" R asks with a hope in his voice.

Half an hour later all Les Amis has finally get together with all the provision. Combeferre and Marius walks to the garden in order to prepare the place for the brazier. Courfeyrac has taken the responsibility of marinating the meat, while Grantaire volunteers to make cocktails and drinks for everyone. That looks very promising as he starts his own barman show: the flying bottles of Jack Daniels, four different kinds of liqueurs and Martini. Gavroche stands near the table, watching that with wide open eyes, cheering R up. Courfeyrac laughs as Grantaire gracefully catches the bottle and starts pouring the liquid, but then notices Enjolras's face and nearly drops everything.

Cosette and Joly walks with many plates in their hands, while Jehan, whistling a cheerful tune, with cups and glasses follows them.

The pergola or a garden house looks more like a marquee with light violet fabric and orange lanterns: small and big, shaped like stars. There stands a round table with creamy tablecloth and a vase with white roses. Jehan thinks that tulips would pass better, but the household is rich, that's why everything must be expensive. He smiles as his ears reaches the sound of Courfeyrac and Grantaire, singing "Single ladies". Moment later Gavroche joins them and they start dancing, easily competing with Beyonce's performance.

Combeferre wipes his forehead as he and Marius finally manages to do something useful with the brazier. He tugs off his t-shirt and sighs with relief as a wind touches his bare skin.

The thought about the sunburn crosses his mind, but he quickly troughs it out of his mind. It's only the end of May after all.

Jehan has been in a process of placing the napkins on the table as he notices Joly's gaze. The poet watches him and realizes where the medical student is looking.

"You know what? If I come and say him that he is going to have sunburn, he will literally kill me." Joly says and puts bottles with mineral water near the table.

Jehan chuckles. "But he _is_ going to have it. Look at Ferre's shoulders." He grabs an apple and bites it. "I think Cosette must have sun block or something."

"I've got that too."

The poet smiles. "Of course you do. So go and give it to Combeferre."

Enjolras has approached them, hiding his smile as Joly sighs and walks to the house.

"He is so shy. Even more than I." Jehan sits on the chair, admiring the view around him.

The golden haired Enjolras reaches for a bottle and makes a sip. "What is Courfeyrac doing with the meat. I am starving to be honest."

"ENJOLRAS!" the leader jerks and turns quickly.

"What's that, R?" he asks with troubled voice.

"Come here quickly!" Grantaire shouts from the other side of the garden, with his tangled locks and wide open eyes.

Jehan and Enjolras exchange gazes and the second one rushes to the cynic. "What is wrong?" as he stops Grantaire watches him for several seconds, his eyes remind Enjolras deep blue sea; the depths which Sun can't warm with its light. "Granta_"

Dark curls, thoughtful face, eyes that care, heart that loves, soul which is healing- the whole Grantaire's nature just hugs Enjolras. Without any reason. Simply because he has a good mood and he wanted to share it.

Jehan's lips form a smile as he watches them. A marble statue cracks when the other heart flickers. The soul has found a light.

Courfeyrac appears near Jehan with a little chamomile in his hand. The poet smells the tiny flower and then leans forward. "Told you they would be fine." He matters in Courfeyrac's collarbone.

"I've had no doubts about that." Courf answers, caressing Jehan's soft hair.

Joly walks out of the house, thinking that next time he will not enter that place alone. He's found himself lost twice, before he saw a front door. When he feels the daylight on his face again he notices Marius running somewhere with strange face expression. He really doesn't want to know why Marius does that. Gavroche runs after him, laughing maniacally.

The medical student sighs and walks to the shirtless Combeferre. He suddenly feels that he is blushing. "Ferry?"

Combeferre turn his head, holding several wooden sticks. "Mh Uhh?"

Joly carefully shows the sun block with apologetic face, still blushing. "Your shoulders…They are going to hurt."

Ferry reminds silent for a second, but then chuckles. "You are beyond imagination, Joly." The cheeks of the other student have become scarlet. "Come here, I am going to need some help with this."

Joly steps forward and pours some cream on his palm. "Don't want you to do that yourself?" Combeferre looks at the eyes of Joly. "Okay." He adds quickly.

His rather small hand touches the other man's shoulder and carefully spreads the cream.

"Sorry for being harsh with you this morning, Joly." He says, looking away. "You are just caring. Thank you."

The paranoiac medic feels himself good. Exact feeling when Combeferre smiles at him at the railway station. "I know that I am a bore. I just can't do anything about that."

Ferry smiles, knowing that he would be lonely without Joly. He is his best friend. "It's okay."

Joly finishes and wipes his hand, hiding his smile and still red cheeks. Combeferre watches his actions and then laughs. "You are such a kid, you know that?" he stands up from the chair and hugs Joly, the hesitation on his face makes Ferry chuckle once again.

"Seriously people, you are kidding me. You are hugging and kissing every bloody three minutes!" Gavroche rolls his eyes while searching for something eatable. "In Paris Les Amis are so serious, so mature, blahblahblah…Revolution, freedom…"

Cosette's appeared near the teen with a sandwich in her hand which she gives to Gavroche. "Don't blame them. It's spring after all." She runs her fingers through his blond hair; her gentle smile makes the kid to feel himself awful for wanting to kiss this beautiful mademoiselle. Cosette notice the color of Gavroche's cheeks and hugs him tightly. "See? Hugging isn't that bad. It is because a hug is a handshake from the heart."

"The meat is ready!" Marius announced proudly forty minutes later as all Friends of ABC cheer happily.

The atmosphere of the day spent with your friends can't be just described. It must be felt by the heart to realize it. Jehan will say that friendship of Les Amis reminds him a hot chocolate muffin: amazingly good and warm with sweet aftertaste on the lips. Grantaire will probably explain his feelings using his watercolors, mixing them, creating the picture of their spirits and bonds.

When the evening gently wraps himself around Marius, Cosette, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Combeferre, Joly, Gavroche, Enjolras and Grantaire; when the soft, dim lights of the little lanterns illuminates their hearts; when arms, wrapped in each other warm them; then Les Amis realize that they can stay like that forever. There will be thousand friends like them in the future, there were in the past, but in this moment nothing else matters.

"_I'll pretend that I'm kissing  
the lips I am missing  
And hope that my dreams will come true  
And then while I'm away  
I'll write home ev'ry day  
And I'll send All My Loving to you__." _

The sounds of the guitar remind the sound of the soul: bitter and sweet at the same time. Enjolras is watching Grantaire who is playing it. The dark blue eyes are sad again. Or maybe tired; like when you are tired after a long day, full of emotions. His voice sounds so natural when he sings. Enjolras thinks that when Grantaire is singing he is showing his heart, he revealing it, letting it to calm down and rest.

Jehan stands up from his chair and glances at Courfeyrac; then slowly takes his hand. "Let's dance while the Moon is shining."

Their figures strangely match the sound of Grantaire voice. The Moonlight strangely, yet so good fits the orange lights of the lanterns.

Enjolras's hands around Grantaire's waist fit perfectly.


End file.
